


Excruciation

by evilwriter37



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Nipple Torture, Orgasm Denial, Rape, Sounding, Torture, Whump, evilwriter for a reason, forced drugging, hiccup!whump, viggo's kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Alternate ending to Enemy of my Enemy in which Hiccup is captured and brought to Viggo.So do you remember that one-shot I wrote for a request pretty much a year ago where someone wanted me to have Viggo torture Hiccup? Well, I actually had to censor him a lot in that one, so here's the uncensored version of Viggo Grimborn. I let him do what he wanted.





	Excruciation

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other things to write, but I've had this thing sitting in my documents untouched for months now, so finally, here it is. The beginning is the same as the original one-shot, but it gets very, _very_ different after a certain point.

Hiccup sat against the mast of the Hunter ship with his hands tied in front of him. There were two men guarding him, which he thought was ridiculous, seeing as they were on a boat in the middle of the sea. Where was he going to escape to? The water would only present a frigid death.

If Toothless was also onboard, he would understand the need to guard him, but he wasn’t. He was back on that island, probably alone and dying in that cave. 

Tears pricked at his eyes and he set his jaw. He felt so _stupid_ for trusting Dagur. Of _course_ he had betrayed him. Of _course_ he had left him. Why had he expected anything else?

Hiccup felt _especially_ stupid for ditching Astrid that morning. He should have let her go with him, should have listened to her about taking a break from searching for Viggo. But he hadn’t, and now he was here, on his way to him to probably be tortured and killed in some horrific manner. That thought, albeit a terrifying one, wasn’t as bad as thinking of Toothless all alone on that island with Dagur. He felt an ache in his chest, crawling up his throat, threatening to be released as a sob, but he choked it down. It only served to make it hurt more, but he couldn’t cry, especially not in front of these Hunters. That would be a sign of weakness.

“You know,” one of the men began, “you can still save yourself if you tell us where your dragon is. Then Viggo might consider killing you quickly.”

Hiccup wished he was standing so he could spit in the man’s face, but instead he shot him a glare, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “Go suck a rock!” he spat defiantly.

Both of his guards laughed, which only made Hiccup’s glare deepen.

“Your stubbornness won't help you, boy,” the other man said. “Just tell us.”

“So you can go and capture my dragon? Yeah, no thanks.” Hiccup turned his head away from the both of them, clenching his teeth. He just wanted to cry, and he added that to the list of things he felt stupid for. Loathing began to form a pit in his stomach, loathing for himself. This was all _his_ fault. He couldn't blame anyone else for what had happened and what was going to happen. Even worse, he had no way to escape.

 _What will dad think?_ His friends would have to tell him once he'd been missing for a while. He would probably be angry with him, disappointed, upset that he’d raised such an incompetent and idiotic son. Hiccup would probably be dead by the time they found him, if they ever did.

He was broken from his thoughts by a sudden kick in the chest. His breath was chased from him at the impact, pain webbing out from where he’d been hit. His head fell back against the mast as he wheezed.

“Tell us, boy!” one of his guards, probably the one who had kicked him, yelled. He leaned down to get right in his face, trying to intimidate him.

Hiccup still didn't have the breath to speak, so he shook his head. Then a slap landed on his face, so hard that he found himself on his side. He couldn't move, stunned by the blow.

He was kicked again, this time in the stomach. He grunted and rolled onto his back, bringing his hands up to protect his face, hoping that he wouldn’t be hit there. A foot slammed into his right side. He felt the snap more than he heard it, somehow found his voice and let it out in a scream. 

“Where’s the Night Fury?!”

Hiccup blearily opened his eyes and lowered his hands from his face, breathing ragged, each inhale and exhale hurting more than the last.

“Go shove a spear up your ass,” he rasped out.

The Hunter’s face contorted in anger and he raised his fist, but the other guard caught him by the wrist.

“Stop! You don’t want to accidentally kill him!”

The Hunter shook the other’s hand off, but lowered his fist. “Little shit deserves what’s coming to him,” he muttered angrily before stomping away. The other Hunter didn’t say anything, just moved to stand beside him and crossed his arms. 

_Really? I’m definitely not going anywhere now._

Hiccup didn’t bother trying to sit up. He just lay there looking up at the sky. It was streaked with orange, the sun dipping towards the horizon. He made himself control his breathing. Though deep breaths hurt, shallow breaths would do him no good. He didn’t feel anything press against his right lung when he inhaled, so there wasn’t a danger of puncturing it. That was a little bit of a relief.

He was glad that his one guard didn’t try talking to him or asking him anymore questions. Hiccup had nothing to say to him. He hadn’t been lying back on the beach when he’d said he’d die before he talked.

As time passed and the sky darkened, a cold fear began to settle deep inside him. Yes, he would die before he said anything, but how long would dying take? He knew he wasn’t going to get anything merciful. He idly wondered if it would be Viggo or Ryker interrogating him. Maybe they’d do it together.

Hiccup didn’t want to think about what would be done to him, but his imagination came up with things anyway. Bloody, horrible things that made a shiver race up his spine.

Then he realized that he could give himself a quicker death. It wouldn’t _necessarily_ be quick, but it would be better than what he was sailing towards.

With a grunt, Hiccup pushed himself into a sitting position. The guard only gave him a glance, then looked away again, his change of position warranting no concern.

Hiccup scanned the deck of the ship. The guard was the only Hunter close to him, and there were none close to the sides. His plan might just work.

He drew in a deep breath to prepare himself. Then, without warning, he launched up and took off running towards the side of the ship. His guard gave a surprised shout and Hiccup could hear him in pursuit.

_Come on, come on._

He managed to climb up onto the side - glad that his hands were bound in front of him and not behind - and without any hesitation, he jumped.

The cold of the water was a biting shock. He managed a pained gasp before he went under. He didn’t try to swim, let himself sink, wondering if he would die first from drowning or hypothermia. Either option was definitely better than dying by Viggo’s hand. 

Though he was underwater, Hiccup let out a shriek when something abruptly wrapped tight around his waist. It put the most uncomfortable pressure on his broken rib. He inhaled simply by reflex, water rushing into his lungs. He was being tugged upwards; then he was out of the water, coughing and choking, pain stabbing through his abdomen. Black spots swam in his vision.

He was pulled over the side of the ship and onto the deck, spluttering. Someone rolled him onto his side so that he could cough the water out of his lungs.

“You’re not getting out of it that easy, Haddock,” one voice said, tone aggravated. 

The water now gone from his lungs, Hiccup was left wheezing, vision blurred. Hands jostled him and lifted him up; then the chain around his waist was pulled off. He was dumped unceremoniously back onto the deck of the ship, gasping and shivering.

There was nothing he could do as they pulled his prosthetic off of him. Tears mingled with the seawater on his face.

“What do we do with this?”

“Get rid of it. Don’t want him pulling something like that again.”

Hiccup lifted his head, watched in despair as the Hunter drew his arm back, then flung his prosthetic off of the ship. It landed in the water with a distant splash.

He lowered his head back down, closed his eyes. Once again, he berated himself for being so stupid. He wished he could go back and change things, go back to that morning. He should have taken Astrid with him. Hel, he should have just stayed in bed.

Hiccup pulled his knees up to bring warmth to his body, wrapping his arms around himself. Laying like that on the deck, dripping and freezing and wishing he was home, he silently cried himself into unconsciousness.

 

Hiccup was awoken by a hard slap in the face. He drew in a burning gasp, instantly going into a panic at his unfamiliar surroundings. He swung his head around, trying to take in everything as quickly as possible. He was in some sort of large tent, the material it was made of colorful and oddly familiar. His arms were over his head, chained to a wooden support beam, which had him standing on his one foot. His bare foot. His clothes were gone, leaving every inch of him naked and vulnerable. Only after he processed all this, did he notice the two men standing in front of him. Viggo stood with his hands folded behind him, his lips curved in a satisfied smirk, Ryker beside him with a small, sadistic grin.

Adrenaline and fear mixed oddly in his veins, making him a little lightheaded. The embarrassment about being naked didn’t help either. 

“Hiccup, so glad to see you awake!” Viggo said his name like he was a good friend he hadn’t seen in awhile, and that served to unsettle him. He shifted a little in his chains, quickly growing uncomfortable with the position.

“Oh, goody, are you going to serve me breakfast in bed?” He tried to put as much sarcasm and disdain into those words as possible.

Viggo actually chuckled, a genuine look of amusement in his eyes. Ryker just sneered at him. Meanwhile, Hiccup felt like his insides were liquefying.

“My brother didn’t tell me you had a sense of humor,” Viggo said.

“Well yeah, that’s because he’s always trying to kill me,” Hiccup responded. “Honestly, Ryker, you should get to know a person before you start trying to cut their head off.”

“Quit it, boy!” Ryker yelled. “We didn’t bring you here to listen to your sass!”

Viggo laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and Ryker actually stepped back a little bit. “Brother, relax. Perhaps he’ll be reasonable.”

Hiccup somehow made himself laugh. It hurt his rib, but the astonished look on Viggo’s face was worth it.

“Sorry, no,” he said. “I’m not telling you where my dragon is.”

“Really?” Viggo stepped closer to him, and Hiccup had to lift his head to meet his gaze. “I’ll make your death swift if you tell me.”

“That’s not exactly a very good bargain,” Hiccup answered. His voice shook a little, betraying his fear. 

Viggo just shrugged. “Believe me: compared to what I can and will do to you if you don’t tell me, it is a rather good one.”

Hiccup did believe him, exactly the reason he had tried killing himself before getting here, but he couldn’t give in, especially not so easily.

“I think you’ll have to convince me,” Hiccup said. His mouth went dry even as the words left his lips. This was going to be _bad._

He flinched and hissed in pain when Viggo pressed a finger into his broken rib. The area was marred with black and purple bruises.

“Are you so sure, Hiccup?” There was a teasing note in his voice and he applied more pressure. Hiccup gritted his teeth and groaned. “Oh, did my Hunters rough you up a bit?” Viggo asked as if he was only now just noticing. “I’m so _sorry_ about that.” He pressed harder and Hiccup gave a cry.

“Viggo, don’t play around with him,” Ryker said, sounding disapproving. “This isn’t a game.”

Viggo drew his hand back and Hiccup gasped for air. The man _smiled_ at him before turning and addressing Ryker. “Oh, but it is. A game of wills.” Then he took on a commanding tone. “Hold his head still.”

Hiccup’s stomach twisted, mind instantly racing with all the possibilities of what was about to happen to him. Ryker went to stand behind him, and Hiccup grunted as one large hand came around and took a hold under his jaw, the other gripping the back of his head. He watched anxiously as Viggo went over to a table and picked something up. He didn’t see what it was till he turned back to him. A cup.

_Oh gods, what are they going to make me drink?_

Hiccup hadn’t considered that they might use something to compromise his mind. As far as he knew it wasn’t a very common interrogation tactic.

“Wha-what is that?” he asked as Viggo returned to stand in front of him. He felt so small all of a sudden. The Grimborn brothers were both larger than him and he was trapped between them, chained up and defenseless.

“Oh, just a little something to loosen the tongue,” Viggo replied. “And seeing as I doubt you’ll drink it willingly…” He brought his other hand up and pinched his nose. Hiccup struggled against the hands holding him, struggled against the chains, grinding his teeth down hard. He’d rather faint from loss of air than be forced to drink that.

His struggles continued for about a minute, an awful minute in which his lungs ached and burned and his chest heaved uselessly as his body tried to draw in a breath. He stopped moving, though, still stubbornly held his mouth shut, a whimper crawling up his throat. But by the gods he wanted to breathe. He _needed_ to breathe.

Hiccup’s mouth fell open and he desperately sucked in air, aggravating his broken rib. He was allowed to do this for a few seconds, but then the cup was at his lips and there was liquid being poured into his mouth. He choked, tried spitting it out, but Ryker tilted his head to make it harder to do so. The liquid spilled onto his face and chin, but it was still being forced into his mouth. With Viggo holding his nose, he had no choice but to swallow.

Then, finally, Viggo pulled away from him, probably deciding that he had ingested enough of the substance. Hiccup coughed and was left panting, and there was a bad aftertaste in his mouth. Ryker let go of his head.

“Ryker, you may leave,” Viggo said as he went back over to the table, placing the cup down. Hiccup’s view was blocked, but he was sure there were awful things on that table meant to hurt him.

“But-”

“That was not a suggestion,” Viggo stated firmly, back still turned. “I wish to speak with Hiccup alone.”

Hiccup realized that being alone with Viggo might actually be worse than having Ryker there as well. He had an idea of how far Ryker was willing to go, but not Viggo. Ryker was a brute whose tactic would be to beat the information out of him. Viggo, on the other hand, was much smarter, more patient and cunning. He probably had absolutely horrible things planned.

Ryker didn't say a word. Hiccup sensed him move away from him, then heard him leave the tent. There was a moment of tense silence.

“Why-” Hiccup’s voice cracked and he swallowed, started again. “Why are you chief and he isn't?” Though the situation was bad, it was interesting to see how the two interacted with each other. Ryker was much more compliant with Viggo than he would have expected, almost docile in comparison to when he was without his younger brother.

“My grandfather always valued a strong mind over a strong body,” Viggo explained. He picked up a few objects, the slight clinking sound hinting that they were metal. “He wanted a successor of intelligence rather than one with a dull mind and a sharp sword. Both have to be sharp in order to rule, and Ryker would rather take a whetstone to his sword than his mind.”

Hiccup shifted uncomfortably on his foot. Having his hands chained above him was the only reason he hadn't fallen over. There was an unpleasant tugging on his wrists whenever his stance weakened, and he was forced to stay upright.

His eyes instantly flitted to Viggo’s hands as the man turned back to him. He held a set of long, narrow spikes. Hiccup wanted to look away, but his eyes wouldn’t move from the instruments. He swallowed hard and his breath hitched as Viggo approached him. He then crouched down in front of him and placed all but one of the spikes on the ground, attention on what remained of his left leg.

_Oh gods, oh gods._

“Now how did this happen?” Viggo asked. Hiccup tried to move his leg away as Viggo reached for it, but there was nowhere for him to go. He grasped his leg just under his knee, then looked up at him, waiting for an answer.

“F-fight,” he stammered out. “With-with a dragon. The R-Red Death.”

Viggo’s attention went back to his leg and Hiccup whimpered a little in fear. 

“Yes, I heard somebody killed it. Didn’t know it was you, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Hiccup gasped loudly as the spike pierced the bottom of his stump. He tried to pull his leg away but Viggo held on harder, no doubt leaving bruises. He looked away and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain.

That was, until Viggo slid the spike upwards into his leg. It burned and ached all at once and he couldn’t hold in a scream. He felt violated by having one of the most sensitive parts of him exposed and hurt like this. He never even let his friends see the stump of his leg unclothed, never mind his enemies.

Hiccup could feel that it was shoved in almost all the way to his knee. He sobbed, let tears fall freely. Blood trickled out around the spike, no doubt getting on Viggo’s fingers. He twisted it, and Hiccup cried out and yanked at his chains, wishing there was someway for him to escape this.

“This part of you is extra sensitive, isn’t it?” Viggo questioned. He let go of the spike, leaving it impaled in him like that, and stroked his hand over the front of his leg. Hiccup flinched at the touch, but didn’t say anything. Then his hand was gone, there was a tiny clink of metal, and then stabbing pain in a different part of his leg. He screamed again, louder this time, mentally begging for him to stop, but he didn’t let any of his thoughts come out of his mouth. He would stay quiet and suffer if it meant protecting Toothless.

“Feeling talkative yet?”

“Not… Not really. Spikes are a-a bad conver- bad conversation starter,” Hiccup panted out.

“Well, that drug should start taking effect in about half an hour, so perhaps that will change.” Viggo’s voice was still as cool and collected as ever. Hiccup wasn’t used to such a thing. Usually when people tried to get information out of him and he didn’t comply, they would grow angry and yell and shout, not speak as if they were merely having a discussion about the weather.

Viggo didn’t stand until each spike - six of them to be exact - was placed deep into his leg. Hiccup was sweating and shaking, tears streaking his face, but he made himself glare at him. Viggo didn’t glare back as he expected him to, just gave him a small, expectant smile.

_Well, if he wants me to talk…_

“Fuck you,” Hiccup croaked out.

Viggo _tsked_ and shook his head disapprovingly. “My dear Hiccup, watch your tongue!” he admonished. 

Hiccup raised his eyebrows, a little stunned and _definitely_ creeped out. _My dear Hiccup? My_ dear _Hiccup?_ He tried not to shudder. That almost sounded like something Dagur would say. He didn’t like anything about that, especially the possessive. 

“I can’t,” he responded, deciding to hide how disturbed he was with his usual snark. “It’s in my mouth so I can’t see it.”

Viggo laughed, a sound Hiccup hadn’t expected. 

“Oh, you certainly are difficult to break, aren’t you?” Hiccup cringed as he patted him on the cheek. “But no matter. I’ll find a way to make it happen.” He turned and went back to the table, leaving Hiccup to wonder what he was retrieving now.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking down at the stump of his leg, having a terrible curiosity to know what it looked like. His stomach lurched and it was a good thing it was empty or he would have thrown up. The sight of metal sticking out of the bottom of his leg was not a good one, especially not with how blood was dripping down the end of each spike and pattering on the ground. Bruises were forming up his leg in stripes, marking where each instrument was in his body. His right knee shook and buckled, but the chains kept him up, tugging painfully on his arms.

“Admiring my handiwork?” Viggo asked. Hiccup looked to him, then his hands, expecting him to be holding something else to hurt him with, but there was nothing. That was odd. Hiccup hadn’t taken Viggo for the kind of person to punch information out of someone, and he’d heard clinks of metal like he was retrieving something.

“Th-thought you were grabbing something.” Hiccup didn’t know why he said it. He didn’t _want_ Viggo to hurt him. He was just confused.

“Oh, that’s for later.” Viggo stepped forward, and his gaze felt like knives running along his body. The way he smirked made Hiccup’s stomach twist. “You know, Ryker always called you scrawny, but you’re more muscular than he made you out to be.” 

Hiccup didn’t know what to say. He wanted Viggo to stop looking at him like that. There was want in his eyes, want for him. He knew the look from Dagur, though Viggo’s eyes were colder than Dagur’s, much colder - ice whereas he was used to fire. Then he came close, close enough to touch him, and he did that, hands trailing over his abdomen. The touch stole Hiccup’s breath from him, shoved his heart into his throat. He was chained up and naked, utterly vulnerable to Viggo’s desires. There was nothing he couldn’t do to him.

“Though, he never did see you naked like this, I’m assuming,” Viggo continued, a gravelly tone taking on his voice. His hands ran over his stomach, which was heaving with panicked breaths along with his chest, his whole body wracked with terror, broken rib aching at the movement. His left leg throbbed. “Nice muscle here.” His hands went lower, down to his thighs. “And here as well. I’m assuming dragon riding does that for you.”

Hiccup had never been touched like this before, the feeling of skin on skin foreign to him in these places. He didn’t want this, and especially not from Viggo. His hands were soft, a sign that he didn’t do any of the hard work of dragon hunting himself.

“ _Stop._ ”

“I’ll stop if you tell me what I want to know. Certainly you know how things like this work, Hiccup.” Viggo traced his hands back up his thighs and to his abdomen, so uncomfortably close to his cock, his touch feeling like it was burning. His chains shook as he arched away from it, but Viggo’s touch just followed. There was nowhere he could go to escape this.

“I-I won’t tell you,” Hiccup gasped out, watching Viggo’s hands as intently as he could with tears blurring his vision. “J-just hurt me instead.” Pain would certainly be better than this unwanted touching. He’d feel less sick about it, less terrified. He knew how to deal with pain, but this was a realm he’d never been into before and would rather not delve into now.

“Don’t worry.” Viggo’s voice was oddly gentle, quiet, creating a strangely intimate air between them. “I will. I find causing pain of a sexual sort to be utterly satisfying.”

Hiccup shook his head. “No, no, _stop_ it!” He tugged on his chains, spurring pain into his wrists. “Please!” He was so desperate to get out of this he began suggesting things Viggo could do to him instead. “Wh-whip me, o-or stick needles into me, or b-break my bones. P-please, anything but this!”

“But would those things make you talk?”

Hiccup didn’t know what to say to this. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, knew that eventually he’d give away the information, but he didn’t want it to be taken from him this way. It didn’t seem there was any avoiding it though. Viggo had his mind set on what he wanted to do to him.

 _Maybe I can keep him talking till the drug kicks in._ Hiccup figured that maybe the drug would make him black out, would make it so he was completely unaware of his surroundings and what was happening to him, make him unfeeling. If Viggo was going to do this to him, he didn’t want to feel it.

“M-maybe they would. Don’t kn-know till you try.”

“Actually, needles aren’t a horrid idea,” Viggo said, hands going up to his chest. Hiccup gasped and cringed when he lightly pinched at his nipples. He began tugging on his chains again though he knew it was useless. “They’d especially hurt here, don’t you think?” He kept up his attentions, rubbing his nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand until they were hardened crests, and something about that felt… good. Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut, groaned in confusion. His cheeks burned in mortification. Viggo’s gaze was on his face, gauging his reactions, so he turned his head away, trying to hide his face as best he could.

“Stop.” It came out breathlessly, weak. Then suddenly Hiccup felt a mouth on one nipple, and he didn’t mean to cry out, but it came out of him with the shock of pleasure. It was so wet and hot, and now teeth were grazing him and he moaned. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to feel like this. If he’d had more than one foot to stand on he would have kicked Viggo right between the legs - screw the consequences that would come to him if he did.

He felt a tingling between his own legs: arousal, and he groaned again at the pure frustration of feeling it. He couldn’t believe an enemy was doing this to him, was making him feel this way.

 _No, not me. Just my body,_ he corrected. He figured for now it would be best to separate the two to avoid confusion. _He_ wasn’t feeling arousal. His _body_ was.

Viggo pulled away from him, leaving Hiccup gasping and shuddering.

“Oh yes, there will do quite nicely.”

When he stepped away, Hiccup felt like he had room to breathe, like his proximity had been crushing him and he was free from it now. He knew it wouldn’t last long though, knew there was no point, but:

“No, no, _please._ ” Hiccup opened his eyes to track Viggo’s movements, to watch him go back over to his desk.

“Then tell me where your Night Fury is.”

“H-his name’s Toothless.” Hiccup knew it was stupid, but he was getting sick of him being called “Night Fury” and “dragon” like he was just some animal with no mind or soul or personality.

Viggo still had his back turned to him, but Hiccup could practically see him roll his eyes with the way he sighed.

“Fine. If you insist on calling it that.” Viggo turned, holding a silver needle in each hand. He came back over, and Hiccup swallowed hard, shifted his stance. He held one needle up to his right nipple, knuckles brushing over his chest. “Tell me where Toothless is and this won’t go in here and out the other side.”

“Fuck you.”

Viggo stayed true to his word, shoving the needle in forcefully, piercing right through. Hiccup jolted and shrieked. He hadn’t expected the pain to be that bad, hadn’t expected the fire from it to flare all the way through to his fingers and toes. He expected the pain to kill his arousal, but something about it being in that location only heightened it. Before he had fully recovered, Viggo flicked at the needle, alighting his agony anew and causing him to thrash and cry out. Then he was just left panting, in disbelief that this was happening to him.

“Want me to do the other one?” He was smirking at him, and Hiccup gritted his teeth, scowled. He said nothing.

Viggo shrugged. “Alright then. Have it your way.”

Then his left nipple was pierced, but slower than the first, Viggo drawing out the anguish to make it last longer. Hiccup clamped his jaw shut, trying not to scream, though whimpers made it through.

“Come now, my dear. Scream for me. I so love it when you do.” He twisted the needle and Hiccup groaned, but kept his mouth shut. Viggo lowered his hand. “Very well. I suppose you’ll scream later.”

Then his hand went exactly to the spot Hiccup had been dreading, grasping at his traitorously erect cock. He flinched and gasped at the touch, tried pulling away from it, but then there was a hand on his ass to keep him in place. Hiccup shuddered violently, a strange moaning, crying sound leaving him. He didn’t want this, didn’t want it at all. He knew how to put an end to it, but that would mean giving up Toothless, giving up his best friend. He was too important to him for that. Hiccup told himself that he could do this if it meant protecting Toothless. He could endure.

Viggo began stroking him, his touch surprisingly gentle, and Hiccup hated it as his body loved it. No one had ever touched him like this before, and his hand felt _good_. It was especially nice compared to the pain in his body. He bit his lip, holding in a moan.

“You have a rather lovely cock, my dear Hiccup,” Viggo commented. 

“Sh-shut up.” He tried moving away again, but his other hand kept him firmly in place. Then it squeezed and Hiccup groaned in what he hoped was predominantly despair.

“The same goes for your ass. A lot of nice muscle there. Ooh, I bet you’re really tight.”

Hiccup didn’t want to think about what he was talking about. He twisted his head to the side, whimpered. He just wanted the touching to stop, but with each second it kept going. He felt like it was unbearable. He wanted to beg to him again, to tell him to stop, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Viggo would keep on violating him unless he told him what he wanted to know. Begging was useless. Telling him to stop was useless.

“Have you ever had sex with anyone, Hiccup?”

“G-go fuck yourself.”

“Now why would I do that when I can fuck you?”

Hiccup whined at his words, at the pleasure his touch was giving him. Fear coiled like a living thing in his stomach. 

“Though, I’m not going to fuck you just yet. Let’s consider that a last resort, yes?” Then Viggo pulled away, leaving Hiccup gasping for breath, his skin crawling. He went back to his desk. 

Hiccup choked back a sob. He didn’t know what he was going to do to him now, but he surely didn’t want it. Words pounded away at his closed mouth, but he didn’t let them out. He wasn’t going to beg. He just hoped the drugs would take him soon and make him unaware of all of this.

Viggo returned to him, holding a long, blunt, narrow rod that appeared to be coated in something. As he watched, a bit of the substance dripped off. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusted his stance on his one foot. 

“Know where this is going?” Viggo questioned, pleased at seeing the anguished look on his face.

Hiccup didn’t want to say what he was thinking, so he shook his head.

“No? Come on. You’re smart. Must have some ideas.” He came close, ran one hand over his abdomen. Hiccup whimpered at the touch.

“M-my ass?” He asked quietly, fearfully. It didn’t seem like such a thing would hurt so much there, but having something inside him was the last thing he wanted. Though, he already had multiple things in his body that really shouldn’t have been there. His left leg felt like it was on fire.

“Oh, do try to be more creative than that.” Viggo took ahold of his cock with his free hand, stroked his thumb over his slit.

Hiccup shuddered, shook his head. “ _No_. No, not _there._ ”

Viggo pressed at his slit, and it felt good, so Hiccup’s hips moved into it without his permission. 

“Yes, here. Unless you’re willing to give me the information I want.”

Hiccup swallowed hard, weighed his options. He felt _sick_ , but he couldn’t just give up Toothless. He pulled in a deep breath.

“Fine.”

Viggo chuckled. “Oh, you have quite the spirit, don’t you?” He moved his thumb away, and then the rod was touching. Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut, gave a cry as it slid inside. He’d never felt discomfort like this before. Then it kept going. Deeper, deeper, so deep it made him feel like he was going to throw up, so deep that it scared him. Then it was touching something, something good, and he moaned, hating it even more. He wanted to tell Viggo to take it out, but then he was, and Hiccup almost wanted to thank him for it, but then it was slowly sliding back in. It touched that spot again, pressed at it, made him arch and pull on his chains. Though, it wasn’t long before it was leaving him again, but of course not completely. It went on like that, Viggo slowly sliding the rod in and out of his cock, Hiccup moaning at the discomfort and the strange hints of pleasure that were coming from it, trying not to move in fear of hurting himself. The stimulation was too much. It was tingling through his cock, his stomach, all the way down his legs and to the toes of his right foot. He wanted it to stop. 

Eventually it did stop, and the rod left him completely. He sagged a little in his chains, panting, not caring how it pulled on his arms.

“Perhaps you need something bigger to get you to talk. Some pain here, hm?” Viggo was moving away from him before he could answer, and Hiccup didn’t know what to say anyway. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and he swayed a little. The drugs were kicking in.

In no time at all Viggo’s hand was back on his cock, like he thought it was meant to be there or something of the like. Hiccup whined in distress when he felt this new rod pressing against him, trying to get in. It was wider than the last one, and so when the tip was finally inserted it burned and he gasped.

“No. Please no.”

“Tell me where Toothless is.”

Hiccup said nothing to this, and so Viggo forced the rod an inch or so into him. Hiccup cried out at the pain of it, tried pulling away, but Viggo’s hold on his cock tightened till it hurt him. He’d never felt pain like this in this spot before. It was a strange, intimate kind of pain.

“I can see you don’t like this, Hiccup.”

His body began tingling almost pleasantly. That must have been the drugs too.

“I won’t t-tell you.” He was shaking now, body shocked by what was happening to it.

Viggo said nothing, and the rod went further into him, stretching him painfully, stretching him deep until it was once again pressed against that strange pleasure spot inside of him. The pain was bad, and Hiccup didn’t know what do do with it, how to cope with it. Then Viggo began sliding it in and out like he had with the first rod, and Hiccup moaned loudly in despair and anguish and the barest hint of pleasure. Then he found himself sobbing, unashamedly. He could cry with what was happening to him. There was nothing right about this. 

He swayed, knee shaking, feeling dizzy. As time passed it was like the sensations somehow heightened. Each wound throbbed with a new life, and the rod in him was all the more terrible. He briefly forgot who was doing this to him, had to open his eyes and see Viggo to be reminded of it through his tears. His eyes stared straight back, looking into him, _piercing_ him. The movement of the rod stopped, but it wasn’t removed. His hand stroked over his cock.

“Tell me your full name.”

It came out of him before he could think about it.

“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.”

“And where are you from?”

“Berk.”

“When’s your birthday? How old are you?”

Hiccup didn’t know why Viggo was asking him these pointless questions, but he answered anyway, finding himself oddly willing to.

“February twenty-ninth. I-I’m eighteen.”

“Oh my. I thought you were at least a little older than that. Maybe in your twenties, but no matter.”

Hiccup moaned, closed his eyes. What Viggo was doing with his hand felt good despite the rod in him, or maybe better in contrast to it. It was better than pain and he didn’t want him to stop.

“Where’s your dragon?”

“In- Nowhere!” Hiccup realized he had been about to tell him without thinking. 

“Nowhere, you say? Interesting.”

“Yeah. N-nowhere- _hngh…_ ”

“That feel good?”

“Yes.”

Viggo laughed lightly, ran his other hand up his body before pinching a nipple, not seeming to care about the needle still in it. The pain made Hiccup flinch and cry out. But then the needle was being removed, replaced with Viggo’s tongue. Hiccup moaned loudly, pressing himself against him, chains rattling. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, but he understood that it felt good, and how could there be anything bad about that?

Viggo removed the other needle, still stroking his cock, and his mouth went to that one too, probably tasting his blood. Then, out of nowhere, his thumb was pressing against his broken rib, making Hiccup gasp. The touch was fleeting though, the pain again being buried in pleasure. Viggo trailed his hand up and into his hair, tugged on it to pull his head back, and then his mouth found his neck. Hiccup was surprised he was doing this rather than questioning him. That’s why he was doing this, wasn’t he? To get information?

Thoughts of that left his mind as Viggo pumped him faster and began sucking at his throat. Hiccup found himself thrusting into his hand.

“Would you like to cum, Hiccup, my dear?”

Hiccup hadn’t thought of that. He could feel himself nearing orgasm, but he doubted it could happen with the rod so deep in him. Viggo was in control of whether or not he reached his end. Right. Viggo. This was Viggo doing this to him. Viggo Grimborn. He didn’t want to climax by his hand. He was an enemy.

“I’ll let you if you tell me where your Night Fury is.”

“D-don’t want to.” It felt difficult to talk for some reason.

“Don’t want to tell me or don’t want to cum?”

“Don’t w-want to cum,” Hiccup specified. “Not by you.” 

“Interesting.” Viggo dragged his tongue over his throat and he shuddered with it. He was right on the crest of orgasm, so close but also so far. “But I’m sure you’ll want to after having it denied for long enough. That’s torture all on its own.”

Viggo let go of his hair, used that hand to trail fingers over his tingling skin, stroke his abused nipples. He figured that, had the rod not been in him, he would have been climaxing. He could feel it, the pleasure reaching a peak unlike anything else, his cock burning in his hand, wishing for release. Hiccup was shaking with it, body reaching for every touch, hips moving faster, every part of him save for his mind wanting to be released from this. Strange noises came up from his throat, rising in volume till it turned to all out wailing. His nerves were on fire from the pleasure that kept growing by the second even after it seemed impossible for it to go any higher. It was unbearable, maddening. Maybe he should just tell him. Telling him would stop this, would save him from it. 

But that would also mean further losing himself to an enemy. He didn’t want that either. He was stuck.

“You really don’t want to cum, do you?”

“No! _Agh!_ ”

Then, though he said no, the rod was being painfully pulled from him, his orgasm on the heels of it. It hit him so hard it was like he was being stabbed. He spasmed with it, screaming at the pleasure that was so intense it was agony. It made him want to die. He wished that Viggo’s hand wasn’t still on his cock, that it was instead around his throat and strangling him. He couldn’t cope with this, couldn’t live with it.

Finally, everything in him seemed to agree, and he fainted.

 

Viggo nearly licked his lips looking at Hiccup, hanging unconscious from the chains, hair in front of his face, cum on his stomach. Curious, he ran a finger through it, brought it to his mouth. 

“Mm. You don’t taste all that bad, do you?” He didn’t know why he spoke aloud. Hiccup couldn’t hear him. 

Viggo hadn’t really wanted him to pass out, but it made sense given the intense orgasm coupled with the drugs. He highly doubted the Dragon Rider had ever felt something so good before. And, oh, the sounds he had made, the way he had moved. Viggo wanted more, and there was no point in not allowing himself to indulge. Hiccup was his prisoner. Besides, he didn’t only have one main goal here. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t wanted to bed Hiccup the moment he was delivered to him. Then his clothes had been stripped from him and he’d wanted it even more. He didn’t have much mass to him, but Viggo found that he liked smaller men anyway. It wasn’t like Hiccup was devoid of muscle either. It was all in his core, his legs. He had a beautiful body, to say the least. His cock was a tad bigger than he’d expected it to be. Their last meeting having been in the dark, he hadn’t been able to get a good look at him, especially not between the legs, but now he had him fully exposed, under the light of lanterns, and he could look at absolutely everything.

Viggo undressed from the top, but left his pants on. Then he retrieved the bottle of oil he’d been using from his desk, went around to Hiccup’s backside. He ran his free hand over the smooth, freckled skin, down to his ass to grip one cheek. It was small, but deliciously firm. He gave it a little slap, but Hiccup didn’t react. That was fine. This part would be easier without him awake and protesting. He’d wake him up eventually.

Viggo dipped one finger in the oil, then maneuvered it between the cheeks of his ass, finding his rim. He stroked it a little to relax the muscle before pushing his finger inside. Even wanting to stave off invasion while unconscious, his muscles clenched tightly around him to prevent him from going further unless he was willing to tear him. He wasn’t, so he worked his finger in and out of him a little to soothe his body into accepting him. It eventually did, much easier than if he’d been awake for this, and he was able to place his whole finger inside him. Even without his muscles flexing around him he was tight.

He spoke again for some reason, though Hiccup couldn’t hear him. “You’ll be lovely to fuck.” He truly would be. A small, pleasant shiver ran through him thinking about it, and he pressed his erection against him.

Viggo figured that once he had three fingers in him he was stretched enough to take him without tearing. He was tempted to put his whole fist in him, but that would ruin the tightness he wanted. He’d feel better around his cock this way.

He removed his fingers and bared his cock before slicking it up with the oil and placing the bottle down beside him. He placed his fingers back inside Hiccup and searched for his prostate before bringing his other hand around to his throat and squeezing. No matter how inundated in drugs, the human body was bound to regain consciousness if it found that it could no longer breathe.

Hiccup twitched, the first sign that he was waking up. Not long after there was another twitch, then full fledged motion, struggling. He lifted his head, strangled noises leaving him as he attempted to breathe. Viggo loosened his hold to let him, but didn’t completely remove his hand. He liked the power such a hold gave him, liked how his throat felt under his hand. Hiccup desperately pulled in air, probably afraid it was going to be taken from him again. Then, once he could breathe properly, he was whimpering, and he shifted, pulled uselessly on his chains.

“ _No-o._ ” Viggo adored how distressed he sounded. “No, don’t do this to me. _Please._ ” 

“Tell me where your dragon is then.” Viggo wasn’t going to stop now, even if he gave him the information, but he’d let him believe that he would. He was surprised he hadn’t given it up already, that he was still fighting everything, the drugs especially. Usually people would be spilling absolutely everything to him, every little secret that they didn’t want anyone to know. Maybe if he got him talking again it would come out of him without him realizing. 

“ _Ah…_ N-no.”

Viggo clicked his tongue. “So defiant even when I have full control over what you feel.” He pressed hard at his prostate, not enough to bruise him, but definitely enough to cause pain. Hiccup gave a lovely-sounding cry, arched his hips away from him, but Viggo just followed, fingers never leaving him. He only ceased pressing against that spot when Hiccup had been whimpering for a good ten seconds or so. Then he began gently massaging it to alternate the pain with pleasure and hopefully confuse him. He moaned, tried moving away again, but Viggo let go of his neck to grasp at his hip and keep him in place. He loved how helpless he was.

“Have you ever loved anyone? Or are you in love right now?”

Instead of questioning why he was asking or answering with some kind of curse or insult like he would have before the drugs had taken effect, Hiccup answered him honestly.

“I-in love right now.”

“With who?” 

“Astrid.” Hiccup’s body was relaxing back against him, so he let go of his hip, trusting that he wouldn’t try to move away for the time being. He lightly trailed the tips of his fingers over his torso, relishing how he shivered under his touch.

“Does she know?”

Hiccup sighed rather loudly at the pleasure he was giving him. “Don’t know. Haven’t told her, but maybe…”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Never- _hah…_ \- time for it, I guess. _Fuck._ ”

Viggo snickered. It was fun to see and hear him fall apart like this under his fingers. Hiccup Haddock, so proud and defiant, turned to a moaning, swearing mess under his hands. He decided to add to it, ran his hand down to grip at his cock. It was again erect like he’d expected it to be. He stroked it slowly, and Hiccup made a high-pitched moaning sound.

“That’s it. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“N-no. No- yes. No.” Hiccup seemed entirely confused now.

Viggo clicked his tongue. “You poor, confused thing. The correct answer is yes.”

“B-but I don’t- I-I hurt.”

“Oh, I know you do. I’m the one who did it to you, remember?” He’d moved his hand from his cock, trailed it down the front of his left leg. Hiccup whimpered, probably fearing more pain there. 

“I-I think so.”

“Speaking of remembering things, do you remember where your dragon is?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He crooked his fingers harder against his prostate and he yelped. Viggo admired his own self restraint and how he hadn’t just taken him already, though, he didn’t have to restrain himself any longer. He withdrew his fingers, grabbed at his hip. With his other hand he took his cock. He stroked the head of it against Hiccup’s hole to threaten him. “Give me more than that.”

“I do remember.” Hiccup’s words came out rushed, his muscles tensing, panic no doubt taking him. 

“And?”

“N-not telling.”

Viggo entered him slowly, grunting as he did. Hiccup’s muscles clenched around him, but he was slick, so Viggo kept on, sure he wouldn’t tear him, though it would hurt. And hurt him it did. Hiccup gave loud cries that spoke of pain and anger, thrashed as best he could in his grip. It did nothing, and soon Viggo was fully sheathed in him. It was _good_. Hiccup was hot and tight around his cock, and he let himself sigh at it.

“What about now?”

Hiccup tugged on his chains, sobbed loudly, but said nothing, so Viggo began thrusting. He was slow and careful about it at first. Hiccup had definitely never had anything in his ass before, and Viggo didn’t want to injure him here. He’d get more satisfaction out of giving him pleasure, because that was exactly what he didn’t want. Hiccup would rather have pain. He could give him that too though, make him wish for neither pain or pleasure, but simply nothingness.

“Ooh, your ass is lovely.”

Hiccup said nothing to this, just moaned and cried in the most splendid way, straining against his chains and Viggo’s hold on him. Viggo wondered if he even truly knew what was happening. 

For the moment Viggo forgot all about questioning him, just reveled in this. From the instant he’d seen Hiccup he’d wanted this, had wanted to be in his body like this, and now he was. Not only that, but he was surely Hiccup’s first sexual experience. He nearly laughed at that. To have one’s virginity taken by an enemy… Was he aware enough of what was going on to feel humiliated by such a thing?

Viggo decided to ask. He ran his mouth over the curve of one ear, loving how soft his hair was against his face. “Am I your first?” he asked lowly.

Hiccup sagged back against him in defeat, exhaustion, panting when he wasn’t moaning. “Yes,” he gasped out.

Viggo let himself laugh at that. This was too good. He grunted. “I assume you never thought you’d lose your virginity to an enemy.” The hand that had been on his cock ran up and down his beautifully shuddering body before going to stroke at a still-bleeding nipple. “I can’t imagine the humiliation you must be feeling.” Viggo continued on. The drug he’d given him could cause hallucinations, so maybe if he planted the right ideas in his head, they would happen. “Imagine Astrid seeing you like this.” Viggo bowed his head against his shoulder with a groan. He wanted to pick up his pace, but not until he’d finished talking. “Imagine her watching this, witnessing you being taken and defiled by your sworn enemy. She’d be disgusted with you. Your love would never be returned then.”

“No. A-Astrid.”

Viggo hoped his plan was beginning to work. Maybe if he pretended Astrid was there, she would be to Hiccup.

“Open your eyes and look at her, Hiccup. She’s right here in front of you.”

Hiccup sobbed. Viggo craned his head around to check that he had his eyes open, and he did. They were glazed over, torment riding underneath. Tears brimmed over and fell.

“A-Astrid, make him stop.”

Viggo smiled and hummed. It was working.

“She can’t make it stop, Hiccup. Only I can.”

“Please, Astrid. _Please._ ”

“Would you like her to go away? Certainly you don’t like her seeing you like this.” Viggo was taking Hiccup’s erect cock in his hand again, stroking it slowly. 

“ _Agh…_ ” Hiccup arched into him.

“Certainly you don’t want her seeing you responding to my touch like this.” He kissed his ear again. “Yearning for it.”

“N-no. _Ugh-huh…_ S-sorry, Astrid. So sorry.”

“I can make her go away.”

“C-can you?”

“Yes. You only need to do one simple thing for me.”

“Wh-what is it?”

“Tell me where Toothless is. You do that, and Astrid will leave.”

Hiccup didn’t respond instantly like Viggo had hoped him to. He looked at his face again, saw that he had his eyes squeezed shut, and now he was shaking his head. Viggo brought his hand lower, took his balls in a grip that was most definitely painful based on the way Hiccup yelped and jerked.

“Tell me.”

Hiccup made absolutely no response. No words, no shake or nod of his head. Nothing. He just made an ugly sobbing sound that sent a thrill through Viggo. So maybe he did have to fuck him harder. Deciding upon doing that, he paused his thrusting, took him by the backs of his thighs and lifted him off the ground, and Hiccup, exhausted from balancing on just his one foot, melted into his arms, leaned his head back against his shoulder, leaving his lovely throat bare to him. The position made Viggo go deeper, and he let out a little “Mm” at it. He was in him full to the hilt now, and the tightness of his passage around him was wonderful.

“That’s it, my dear,” Viggo crooned. “Just lean back against me. Let yourself rest.” He loved having Hiccup against him like this. He could _feel_ his every breath, his body moving against his as he panted, his exhales puffing at his face. His eyes were tightly shut in what looked like a mix of rapture and agony, his lovely lips parted. Viggo wanted to kiss them, and he probably could. He doubted Hiccup would bite him while so drugged like this. The position was awkward, but he twisted his head to do so as he resumed his thrusting, going at him much harder than before. Hiccup moaned, and so his mouth stayed open for him, and Viggo was able to dip his tongue inside. Viggo couldn’t help himself and returned the sound. He was beginning to forget all about questioning him. It seemed Hiccup wouldn’t give him anything this night save for his body. Viggo was more than content with that.

Something about Hiccup’s mouth was delicious, but he released it to listen to the sounds he was making. He was giving a cry with each hard movement into him, and Viggo smirked at it, could feel himself rubbing against his swollen prostate on his path to go deeper. He hoped he could make Hiccup climax with just that, without touching his cock. Usually a man’s body needed a little bit of training to do that, but maybe with the drugs and Viggo’s expertise, Hiccup wouldn’t need any.

But gods, the thought of training him to be a perfect pleasure slave, there for him whenever he wanted him. The thought of just _keeping_ him. He had told Hiccup he’d kill him quickly after he gave him the information, had told Ryker he’d kill him as well, but how could he kill him now when he had so much to offer?

Viggo lost himself to time in the experience, lost himself to the incredible pleasure burning through him, the wonderful slapping of skin-against-skin, the feel of Hiccup against him, the sounds of his whimpers and moans and cries. Though, upon nearing his climax, he forced himself to withdraw from him. He didn’t want to climax right now, wanted this experience to last longer.

Hiccup just gasped for breath against him, and Viggo gingerly set him back down on his one leg, combed fingers through his sweat-damp hair.

“A-are you done?”

Viggo chuckled. “Oh, I plan on this lasting a good long while, my dear.”

 

Hiccup didn’t even really know what was happening to him anymore. He’d lost himself in a sea of sensation, wave upon wave hitting him. It was good, it was bad, it was pain, it was pleasure, but no matter what it was, it was all excruciating - too much, completely overwhelming. It was everything all at once and he couldn’t hope to understand it. The fog in his mind felt like a weight on him, like it was pressing him to the ground and he couldn’t get up to break through it no matter how hard he tried.

He became aware of something new. The chains were off his wrists. He was being carried, laid down on his side on something soft. Was it over? Was everything over?

Pain in his leg. That’s what that sharp, aching sensation had to be. He shouted, jerked, clutched hard at the soft thing underneath him. 

A voice came to his ears. He didn’t know whose voice it was, but there was a soothing tone to it.

“It’s alright, Hiccup. I’m just taking these out.”

_Taking what out?_

Hiccup managed to open his eyes and look down. Or maybe it was up. He saw something: the stump of his leg, metal, blood. His eyes slid closed again, dizziness pounding into him.

More agony that made him scream. A hand stroked over his back, sending tingles through him. As the pain continued, along with his screams, the stroking did too, the hand moving over his back, his side, his abdomen, down to his cock to spur pleasure in him to combat the anguish. He yelled and writhed and bucked. Then whatever that extra pain was stopped, lessened to an awful burning that he wanted to stop. He was rolled onto his back. There was someone on top of him, something tugging at his hair and pulling his head back.

Hiccup sighed as something wet and soft touched his neck, traveled downwards. A spark of pain in his collarbone, then the smooth, wonderful wetness again. Then a sucking sensation. Something hot took turns running over his aching nipples. Hands were caressing his sides. Hiccup moaned, in both pain and pleasure. Every breath hurt, and there was burning in his leg, but this felt good and his entire body was tingling pleasantly. His head swam. He wanted it all to stop. Maybe he could say that.

“St-stop.” He was surprised he remembered how to talk through everything he was feeling, that his voice was able to rise above the sensations swallowing him. 

The wetness was traveling down his stomach, and Hiccup opened his eyes, got a glimpse of dark brown ones looking back at him, a mouth to his stomach. Viggo. That’s who was doing this to him. He’d forgotten about that.

“Are you so sure about that, Hiccup?” His voice was smooth, but also a spike pounding at his ears all at once. It sounded like hundreds of him had spoken instead of just one, like his voice was coming from everywhere. 

Then Viggo moved his mouth downwards, licked _something_ that struck pleasure hard and fast into Hiccup’s body, and he tilted his head back with a groan. Then the man licked his cock again - that was most definitely his cock - and he was gasping, his own breath stabbing him in the chest, movement making it worse as he arched into him. He had his hands free, but they didn’t feel free. They felt weighted down, and so did his legs, like he couldn’t move. He tried moving, and found that he could. One of his hands landed in Viggo’s hair, to tug him off of him, but his fingers were clumsy and couldn’t get a grip. He moaned in desperation, pain, pleasure.

“Gods, please stop.”

Lips on his inner thigh, sucking. Hands over his abdomen. It seemed Viggo knew nothing about what that word meant.

There was movement, too much for Hiccup to comprehend, but at some point he was able to catch up with it and realize that his legs were being held up and spread apart. He twisted his head, and though he had his eyes closed, it was like the world rocked and spun underneath him.

Something touching him, something _in_ him. Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. Pleasure. Right there. No, not right there. Out. Get out. Good, so good, don’t stop. It hurts, it hurts. Right _there_. Pounding in him. Burning. Good burning or bad? Both? Neither? Too much. It was too _much_. It had to stop, but instead it went on… and on… and on… 

Hiccup didn’t even have enough awareness to realize that he was screaming.

 

Viggo loved the way he had Hiccup underneath him, loved the way he was pounding him and deriving pleasure from it. What made him feel even better was that Hiccup was screaming now. He must have been so inundated in the drugs at this point that any sensation was torment and pleasure all at once. His body was being overwhelmed by everything and so he had nothing to do but lay helplessly beneath him and scream. It was a beautiful sound, and the way he twisted his head and tilted it back and writhed under his touch despite the pain in his body and the broken rib was stunning. 

Viggo leaned over him. Dragon riding had made Hiccup flexible, so his body bent easily in half, his legs now pressed against his chest, Viggo’s hands at his hips. More reason to keep him instead of killing him. A flexible slave always made for more interesting positions and sessions. 

Viggo bit at Hiccup’s jaw as he continued to shout. This position was good. He could feel himself plowing right into his prostate. They were both due to climax soon.

Hiccup’s cries grew more high pitched, and his hands found his arms, fingers no doubt pressing bruises into him, but Viggo didn’t care. Once again, Hiccup was nearing his end because of his doing. 

“Are you close, Hiccup?” he grunted.

Hiccup managed to draw in a deep breath and nod. He bit his lip, whining behind his now-closed mouth. Viggo kissed him, pried his mouth open with his tongue, let Hiccup moan and try to scream around that. Viggo’s hands went down, to his ass, gripping tight and pulling him into him. His hips were rocking faster now. The pleasure was burning more fiercely and everything felt like it was tightening. He’d finish inside Hiccup, claim him as his own. 

Hiccup suddenly jerked his head away from Viggo, and he _shrieked_ as his climax took him in burning hands. The feeling of his body squeezing around Viggo’s member and the sound that was coming from him is what drew Viggo to his end, and he let himself give a cry, then a moan. He felt Hiccup’s seed hot on both their stomachs. He rocked into him a few more times as he released, adoring the way Hiccup’s body spasmed around him, practically milking his cock. Then it was complete for both of them, and they were left heaving breaths against each other, not moving from their position. Hiccup had his head tilted to the side, and Viggo kissed at his neck, his jaw, bit and sucked at him to leave marks. Hiccup didn’t respond, clearly too wiped out too. 

Viggo didn’t leave Hiccup’s body until he felt himself soften inside of him. It was all so wet and the smell of sweat and sex and blood was everywhere. Viggo inhaled deeply through his nose as he lowered Hiccup’s legs and let him relax. 

He looked him over, at the blood all over his left leg, the bruising on his abdomen from his broken rib, cum on his stomach, the way his chest rose and fell. Viggo couldn’t tell if he was conscious, but that was just fine. He stroked a thumb over his jaw.

“It’s a shame you won’t remember this.”

 

Hiccup didn’t remember that, but he remembered the next day when Viggo whipped him and tore his back to shreds. He remembered being rescued and fainting in his father’s arms. He needed days, weeks, to recover. Each breath, each movement, was excruciatingly awful. The fact that Viggo was alive was even worse. And reigning above all that, was that blank spot in his memory, that blackness and nothingness. He knew something had happened to him after Viggo had put the spikes in his leg, but he didn’t know what, and he’d lie awake at night and dig and dig for it, but it was never there. Not fully. Certain things would come back to him. Certain… sensations, sensations he didn’t want to admit to, put a name to. They were enough to piece it together, to answer his question of what had happened, but he didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to admit that Viggo had… So instead, when asked again and again, by those around him, by himself, he simply went with: “I don’t remember.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Option Four](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752448) by [ashleybenlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleybenlove/pseuds/ashleybenlove)




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